Edward Cullen, ballerina stalker
by FancyFantasy02
Summary: Edward, Emmett and Jasper are out to celebrate Emmett's bachelor party at 'Poison', a strip club in town.  Days post to the party, Edward can't seem to get the ballerina out of his head. Who is she? Why can't he forget her?   M for lemons, OOC, All Human
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own Twilight... **

**This is just something new I came up with. Tell me your honest opinion, please and I'll write some more :)**

**I know this theme might be getting old, but I thought I'd be fun to play around with the characters and follow a story I've been locking up in my mind for a while now.**

**xo,**

**Pearl.**

**CHAPTER ONE.**  
><em><strong>Poison<strong>_

The music overpowered the room, muting every other sound.

Alcohol was flowing, cash was spend and eyes feasted on the waitresses and stunning dancers.

They were all so beautiful and careless; swaying their hips, toying with straps and ties, moving around like snakes that were tempting their prey. Everything seemed natural to them; even if it wasn't.

I looked sideways to the left, spotting my friend Jasper hauling some beer from the bar; helping the waitress carry the full tray towards our table.

They arrived soon enough and Jasper let his hand glide across the girl's shoulder.

"Thanks, that was very thoughtful of you, Sir," she said; fake-innocence dripping from her all-too-sweet soprano voice.

"My pleasure, Victoria," he answered and sat down in between Emmett and myself.

"If there's anything else I can do for you; please do tell," the girl said never taking her eyes off of Jasper.

He grinned and slipped a twenty dollar bill across the table, in her direction.

She winked at him and walked away in her skimpy outfit; legs elongated by the skyscraper-high stilettos and hips swaying, making her little skirt flare out to reveal her blood red, lace panties.

"Dude, want to get laid, much?" Emmett bellowed to Jasper.

He only sipped his beer and gave him a vague stare.

"We can't all have supermodel fiancés, Emm. Besides she's not too hard on the eyes, now is she?" He asked in general.

The girl, Victoria wasn't really. But there was something about her, something mysterious and dangerous all in one. Her face claimed nothing but innocence, with her big, childlike blue eyes and pouty lips. The freckles that were lightly spread out over her pale complexion were only adding to the innocent act, but her fierce red curls unraveled the demon inside her, the vixen.

"Jealous of Rose, are we?" Emmett joked.

"Emm, please. We all know blonde isn't my type," he laughed.

We were all here at this club called Poison, for my brother's bachelor party who was going to get married to Rosalie tomorrow. Emmett had the grand idea to come to a strip club and give ourselves one night of pure macho-ism.

I had never been to a strip club before, and never really intended to either. But your brother only gets married once… if you're luck, that is.

So I had agreed to come here, with my brother Emmett and best friend Jasper. Our original plan included our father, Carlisle, but since my mom caught a hint of where we were going to she prohibited him to come with us.

Or if he did, he'd be sleeping on the couch for quite some time.

God, my father is whipped.

I sat here, feeling a little uncomfortable with all the attention we were getting. My brother already got a lap-dance from a very attractive Latino girl, who proclaimed my brother would severely regret his decision of getting married.

I promised not to tell Rose about this, she'd skin the bitch alive, along with slapping Emm's face off.

_Nah, she wouldn't slap him that hard._

I drank my beer and let my eyes wander around the building. The club was not very big, but cozy enough and unfortunately there were a lot of clichés, such as red lamps and a serious amount of see-through hooker heels.

At least not all the girls actually looked like strippers, but that was beside the point.

"So Eddikens, seeing something you like?" Jasper asked me. We were the only actual singles at the table, but we made Emmett promise not to tell any of the girls around here.

We were actually enjoying ourselves a lot, even I had a good time. I'm not a pervert, but some of these girls could've been picked out of the Victoria's Secret catalogue.

Not that I owned that…

The lights suddenly dimmed and a woman walked up the main stage, a bedazzled microphone in hand.

"Hello, my darlings! Welcome at Poison tonight, we hope you're ready for the show?" she asked. The woman was around her mid-thirties probably and looked stunning in a tight-fitting charcoal satin dress, which reflected some of the stage lights and made her shimmer. She was tall, around five foot seven and strawberry blonde.

Men wolf-whistled, including us and I got anxious as to what kind of show we were going to see.

_Right, a strip-show, I'm not retarded. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey folks!**  
><strong>I have to say I'm very pleased with the alerts I've gotten, but also very disappointed I only got one review! Thank you Sandra! :)<strong>  
><strong>No, we are getting closer to their actual face-to-face meeting.<strong>

**Let's see what our Edboy thinks of his Bellarina ;)**

The club grew even darker after the lady began to speech.

"We have a very special show for you guys, so sit back and enjoy. Our special guest doesn't need much introduction," she said seductively and left the stage.

Classical music started playing and I recognized it immediately from my piano lessons that I took as a kid.

It was the Swan Lake, the classic by Tchaikovsky that emerged from the speakers, coating the inside of Poison in mystery and drama.

Everything went black, until a white beam of light was leading a shadow onto the stage; towards the middle.

The shadow turned around, revealing milky white skin and a black cape. The dancer looked tiny, swallowed by the thick material that covered her from our view. I could only see the crimson of her lipstick, the rest of her face was shadowed, by the cape.

She moved around so gracefully with perfect skills, like a true prima ballerina and twirled onto the music, making me feel the meaning behind it; hurt and heartbreak.

The music morphed into something I didn't recognize, something different; seductive and slower, mixed with the original composition.

I could see one of her hands moving, fiddling with the clasp at the front of the velvet cape, opening it and revealing herself to us in the bright, white spotlight.

And what a revelation it was…

The first thing I noticed, was her face. I was enchanted, sucked into her little bubble, mesmerized. It felt trance-like.

I couldn't manage to tear my eyes away from her, from the beautiful ballerina in front of me on the stage.

Her skin was so pale, looked so creamy, looked so perfect and even that she resembled the most gorgeous porcelain ballerina of all times. She looked like one of those tiny little figures you found in your grandma's antique jewelry box; so perfect; so one of a kind.

I was lured in by her performance, convinced she was a true dancer; a professional until my eyes found her attire which wasn't at all pink, fluffy and innocent. It was all black –the black swan in the ballet performance of the Swan Lake. The evil twin sister. The bad one. I wonder if she chose that on purpose?

The tutu skirt was sheer, with lace and revealed the lace red boy-short she was wearing underneath with straps coming down to clasp the thigh-high sheer pantyhose, all ending in the white ballet-shoes –with strings and all.  
>Then you had her top, which wasn't a body like with real ballet outfits –my sister had ballet all through elementary school, but black lace forming a quarter-length sleeve shirt; showing the matching red bra.<p>

I sucked in a breath; I was astounded by her beauty. She started moving more deliberate; sexier, making her way over to a shiny silver pole on the right side of the stage while she was twirling, making her black curls dance around her.

Men were whistling, urging her on while I just sat there; being poked in the gut by no other person than Emmett.

"Hey, you want a bucket for that drool of yours?" he asked me, clearly amused.  
>"I-uh, sorry," I apologized lamely.<p>

"Don't be, she's pretty hot if you ask me," Jasper joined in on the little conversation.

It seemed weird to be talking, like we were interrupting her dance; her performance.

_You don't talk at the movies either, now do you?_

"Seems like our Ed is having a little crush on a certain someone," Emmett joked and I shot him a glare.

I gulped some of my beer, finishing it in almost two times and placed it down. I felt like a pervert watching her like I did; but then again, that's what she's here for, right?

She moved around the pole like she was a bee and the pole was her honey, touching it but moving away; hearing the men in the club shout at her when she turned away from the pole and hearing their encouraging howls when she moved closer again.

I could swear she looked in our direction; probably not even seeing us with that spotlight on right in her face and she smiled seductively, swinging one leg and clasping the pole with it as she held it tightly with one hand.

She let her weight fall onto that one arm and let her body stretch, just hanging there, enjoying the encouragement she was getting from the crowd.

"Get over there and throw some twenties; you might get a lap dance," Jasper said, nudging my arm.

I shook my head, feeling uncomfortable and not sure how to react.

My eyes followed her and I gasped audibly when she discarded of the tutu-skirt, making every attendee drowning in her own saliva.

Her ass was just luscious, perfect. I couldn't stop my eyes from wandering over her legs. They were muscular, yet slender and feminine and strong and seemed to go on forever until my eyes met her boy shorts.

I felt Junior salute the world, making my khaki cargo shorts unbelievable tight and I tried to readjust myself, which didn't go unnoticed.

Emmett smirked at me, mumbled about me having to get laid and that he never knew my dick was so easy to win over.

Guess you're wrong, brother.

She grasped the pole with both of her hands and snaked one pale leg around it, letting her body twirl. Just as she did that, she hoisted the other leg up as well and hung upside down. Her jet black locks were shiny in the spotlight and hung over her face.

I didn't even know women could actually do this kind of stuff on a pole. Sure, I'd heard of it, but I thought it was a myth.

She moved, so sexy, so confident and won everyone over.

Guys were begging her to take of her top, they were throwing money at her and shouted things I couldn't really comprehend.

My brothers didn't seem as affected by her performance as I was, but yet, they seemed to like it and Jasper praised her skills as well.

She did a couple of more weird twists and turns around that pole of hers. She must be really flexible, I thought, thinking that she must be a very adventurous little vixen in the bedroom.

I bit my lip and asked a waitress for another beer, Emmett and Jasper joined in and I breathed a 'wow' once she made a little bow towards us and winked.

"What? She done already? What about her clothes?" Emmett whispered in my ear.

"Isn't this a strip club?" Jasper agreed with my brother.

I just sat there, dumbstruck and confused.

The lady from earlier appeared back on stage, mike in hand and spoke towards the club. "I hope you have enjoyed our very special Princess," she smiled motherly towards the ballerina, "she is a special treat we have here at Friday nights, she once danced with the Russian ballet-queen Irina Debrovia,"

And just like that she vanished, as the club grew dark again.

**Reviewers get a teaser! :D**

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><strong>Add me on facebook - Pearl FancyFantasy OhTwo <strong>

**xo,  
>Pearl <strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Finally, it's here. **

**I just finished this chapter, I hope you'll like it :)  
>It may not be grammatically perfect, but I'm still looking for people who want to help me out. So if you're interested, please don't hesitate to contact me (:<strong>

**Love, Pearl**

**-I don't own Twilight or its' characters. I just like to write and use them as I go along ;D-**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three.<strong>

My thoughts wandered over to that Princess.

The men surrounding me seemed to have already forgotten about her as the next girl came on stage.

Of course she was beautiful, all women in here were.

The blonde on the lid platform must've been barely of age of consent. Her entiry body was slender and bronzed slightly. Her hair was twirling around her face, hanging in loose curls around her shoulders.

She danced around gracefully, adorned with dollar-bills in her bra-top and matching little skirt.

Men on the first row were wolf-whistling, wanting her to take something of.

The girl winked at the audience and moved her hand towards the top of the poison green top. There was a zipper there, and she slowly unzipped it.

I heard my brother Emmett howl like a horny wolf towards her and saw Jasper lick his lips in approval.

I didn't care about the blonde, but I was sorry for her that my brothers did.

A couple of hours later we decided to go home, it was almost two am as me, Emmett and Jasper got to my car.

"Well, that sure was a night to remember," Jasper sighed and let himself get comfortable in the leather backseat.

"Yeah well, not sure if Alice would approve of your comment Whitlock," Emmett grinned, looking back at Jasper from the passenger seat.

"Like Rose wouldn't mind," I joined in to the conversation.

"It was a bachelor party, mine even. I can do whatever I want Ed," he snapped at me.

I laughed at him, feeling a bit jealous of my brother's and my Jasper's relationship. Everything went so well for the both of them, they were so in love, so happy. Hell, my brother was engaged!

I had never seen my brother happier than since he was together with Rosalie. When I think of it, I couldn't think of anyone else Emmett had been happy with. Then again, Emm and Rose have been together for over five years.

I wondered how it felt for him; after all he was getting married in three weeks.

"So Jazz, how is bridezilla's accomplice doing anyway?" Emmett asked, amused.

"To say she's enjoying it would be the understatement of the century. It's like our entire apartment is coated with magazines and computer-prints full of marriage stuff. It's suffocating, really. It's like we are getting married" he confessed.

"That sounds like something Ally would do," I told him. Emmett nodded at my words.

"I'm so happy Rose doens't make a big deal about it," he said.

"I guess Alice's just born to be in the entertainment business, it's always been her scene to organize and set up events," he continued.

"Of course Rose isn't making a fuss about it, it's all Alice's doing," I said.

Every time my family had planned to do something, she would take up all the responsibilities and handle it.

Not once let Alice pass the opportunity to make others shine, but also herself.

In high school, she had taken care of prom ever since she was allowed to attend.

"Well, good luck Jasper. That's all I can do for you. And thank Alice for me will you?" asked Emmett, joking only a little bit.

I drove Jasper home first, because he lived the furthest of us all. He lived about ten kilometres away from my apartment and six away from my brother and his fiancé's place, Emmett and Rosalie.

When I noticed the white building on my right, I pulled over to the side of the road and stopped just in front of the driveway that led to the private garages.

Light shone from the top floor, my sister and Jasper's floor.

"I still can't get over the fact that you designed this building," I said to Jasper.

He smiled at me warmly.

"I can't either! And yet I live in it," he laughed. "Thanks for the ride, Edward. And Emmett, see you soon then".

"Sure thing, Jazz, bye!"

Jasper closed the door and strolled into the building. I re-started the engine and drove Emmett home.

When everyone was home and I was too, I took the elevator that led up to the tenth story of my building.

The corridor was empty as I looked to either side of it. The 'For Sale'-sign on the other side of my hallway was staring me in the face.

I really wanted to buy that apartment and throw down a wall or two.

_I should do it, I thought._

I turned my key in the lock, and was welcomed by Sprint, jumping eagerly at the door.

"Hi there boy," I greeted him and knelt to cuddle his face.

Sprint was my little dog. I got him out of the animal shelter and ever since then he'd been my best animal friend.

He was dark grey with brown spots and matching big brown eyes. His ears were lopsided and his left one was never willing to stand up straight. His legs were a bit to long for his body but he was the sweetest dog ever.

"Come on boy, let's go sleep!" I said to him.

I kicked off my shoes in the entrance and threw the keys onto the key-hanger next to my front door.

Followed by Sprint I walked over to my bedroom, making a pit-stop at the bathroom.

When I opened my bedroom door and Sprint ran over to his basket near the French doors leading to my little terrace.

I took of my shirt and short and draped them over the club chair in the corner of my room. Not bothering with looking for my pyjama pants, I crawled under my grey covers and nuzzled my face into the soft, feather-stuffed pillow.

As I closed my eyes, I visualised black hair and lace, twirling around shiny metal and lulled to sleep.

_**Please review?**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Here is the next chapter :D I hope you guys will enjoy!**  
><strong>Don't hesitate if you have questions. I won't bite (;<strong>  
><strong>I loved BD2! <strong>

**Go on, read! It's the last chapter without Bellarina! **

* * *

><p><strong>Edward.<strong>  
><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

I woke up at four a.m. that morning.

The reason why I did, was a dream. It was so weird, I hadn't dreamt in ages.

I looked around my bedroom and noticed that I had left my curtains wide open.

The moon was full tonight. Her light coated my room in a depressing pallor.

Sprint was sound asleep on his big, bone-formed pillow, sprawled over it in a comic fashion.

I yawned and wondered why I couldn't sleep. But the thing that bothered me the most was the subject of my sleepless night.

The Princess…

Why did I dream about her? I didn't know her, never spoke to her.

But in my dream she looked up at me from where she sat on a grey barstool. Her face was illuminated, giving her a red glow over her face.

Then she would smile, and her eyes would sparkle.

It was strange, I didn't know what colour her eyes were. They constantly changed colour. From green to grey-blue to warm browns and all over again.

_Would she still be at the club right now?_

I turned my head and looked at the nightstand. The red digits on my alarm clock were glowing.

Four fifteen. No wonder I was tired as fuck.

I lay down again, and then sat up.

After that, my legs carried me to my living room, to where my drawing table was standing.

I picked up my pencil from where I had last dropped it down.

Next to my sketchbook was a square, tin box with dents and discolouring here and there.

The content was old. Pictures, most of them yellowed, from my father and his family.

Most of them were from his parents and grandparents. Dad told me most of them had been taken in his native country, England.

A few of the pictures portrayed their journey to the US.

My father had moved here when his mother died. His dad, Edward Senior, moved to the States. He was torn apart by his wife's dying and couldn't cope being in the house he had bought with her.

He had a lot of job offers in the United States too. Edward Senior used to be a respected surgeon and hospitals from Los Angeles to New York were all reaching out to have him on their staff.

Eventually he chose Washington, Seattle even. So, he packed everything he had lef tand took his two sons and daughter with him.

I smiled at the picture of my father, in his little black-and-white shorts standing in a black-and-white lake.

A yawn escaped my mouth once again and I sighed deeply, rubbing into my eyes.

I walked over to my L-shaped, dark brown leather couch and sat down. On the light-couloured, wooden coffeetable lay a red folder.

A smile spread over my face when I took it in. I took it from the table and opened the elastics, letting them snap against the carton.

The design was Jaspers'. He once made it for me when I first came up with the idea of buying the apartment next door. The design was the ultimate house for me. It contained two bedrooms instead of now one, an extra bathroom, a nice, spacy study and a library wall in the spacious living room. I also had the industrial-look kitchen I always wanted, with grey walls and black cabinets.

The explanation for the fact that it was not my home is simple. I was too late.

Merely two weeks after Jasper had made the design, a 'sold'-sing adorned the door on the opposite side of the corridor.

My new neighbour wasn't nice. It was a lady in her late-twenties I guess.

I also had another guess: prostitute.

Or escort, possibly.

Not that I want to accuse anyone of anything, but every single nights I heard groans and moans from the other side of the hall. And she even looked like she was a prostitute. She looked chique, yet skanky. Mixed the hottest brands in the most horrendous way. Blazers and pink sequined skirts… Blazers with no top under, that is.

I shook my head at the thought of her, the last time I saw her.

She literally stood at her door, waving at some guy coming out of her apartment, wearing nothing but a long-sleeved babydoll.

Somehow between that thought and a following, I must have drifted off to sleep.

A light shone upon my half-asleep face when I heard the shrieking ringtone of my cell. My eyes darted open, surprised that I didn't wake up in my usual scenery, but on the couch instead.

The sound came from behind me, the kitchen.

I squinted against the daylight, coming from my floor-to-ceiling windows.

I should draw the curtains closed every night, I thought.

The phone was buzzing away on my kitchen counter and I picked it up, but not before glancing at the screen at first.

Eleven forty-five? I screamed inside my head.

I had never slept this long since high school!

Of course, the phone stopped ringing right before I got the chance to tap the green phone.

1 missed call(s)  
>MOM<p>

I dialed my mother's number. She picked up by the second ring.

She told me she was glad her son was still alive.

"I know, I'm so sorry Mom. I was still asleep, didn't hear my phone until about five minutes ago," I apologized.

"Asleep?" She asked, astonished. "Edward Cullen, asleep? Even after eleven?!" I could picture the smile that must've been playing on her lips.

"Yeah, I know. Kind of old school of me isn't it? I couldn't sleep, went to the living room and then fell asleep on the couch." I explained.

"Oh, poor boy. I actually thought you'd forgotten about your sad, old mother and her lunch date with you," she exaggerated.

I laughed.

"Come on, mom. Old? Please, where did that suddenly come from?" I asked her, making sure to also over-exaggerate the 'old' part.

"Edward. Once the big five is staring you right in the face, you realize you can't hang with the young ones anymore," she said.

I rolled my eyes at her.

"Mom! Don't even start like that, please. Just in case you don't check your diary everyday. But your birthday isn't due for another three and a half weeks, Mother," I told her.

"And by the way, if Dad failed to compliment you today, you still look gorgeous every time I see you," I said.

I heard her smile into the phone, that smile where the corners of her eyes would wrinkle a bit.

"Sweet as ever. Now go on, hop in your shower and get over here. Don't make me wait, Cullen. If I died before you got here, I'll put the lunch in the fridge," she joked and ended the conversation.

I put my phone back on the kitchen counter and got ready.

About twenty minutes later, I was good to go and in my car.

My Mom and Dad lived just outside Seattle, in an oasis of green and serenity –as my Mom likes to call it.

It was a fifteen-minute-drive, but I didn't mind that at all. I liked taking my car out and just driving past houses, people, stories.

On my way, I passed the Poison-club. It was very strange. Like that feeling, when you have a new car and you suddenly see that type of car everywhere.

Now I had that with a stripper-bar. –Wow, way to go Cullen.

I had driven this road so many times before, but had never really noticed the building.

A piece of me wondered if I would ever set foot in that property again, and if I would ever see the Ballerina again.

Worries for later, I thought and focused on the road ahead of me.

When the bushes and trees started to grow thicker on my left, I know it was time to slow down.

A few seconds later, I turned left and drove along the long, way too long driveway that was my parents'.

The only car there was my Mother's Mercedes SUV. I guessed my father was out working today.

I parked next to her and strolled up the six steps to the front door.

While I waited for my Mom to come and open the door, I looked up at the house. To say it was a nice residence was not doing it justice.

The house was three-stories high, massive and white with wooden accents. I recall it was originally build in the late nineteenth century.

My old room used to be on the top floor. I had it all to myself, except for the 'game den'.

On night outs of family dinners, I still sleep over. I know how my Mom loves to have her house filled with loved ones.

"Hi Mom," I greeted as the heavy, wooden door opened in front of me.

She looked lovely as ever, with her auburn hair hanging loosely around her shoulders and her polka-dotted apron over a deep-green dress.

"Well, here is my boy. You're getting more gorgeous by the day! Now come in before my food gets cold and we have to order Chinese," she laughed and invited me in.

We walked over to the kitchen where Mom morphed the breakfast bar into a cozy table for two.

"I bet you're going to outdo yourself again, it smells heavenly in here," I admitted.

She shushed me and handed me a beer from the fridge.

"Here, my wine-hating child," she joked.

"Thanks," I said and sipped from the can. Earning a reprimanding look from my Mom. "Sorry," I apologized and poured the beer into a glass.

My mother has this thing about drinking from a can….

'You never know whose hands have been on that thing!'

"We're having your favorite," she announced and walked over to the oven, her mittens in the pocket of her apron.

She pulled out an oven-dish and placed it carefully onto the protecting plate and sat down next to me.

We both ate our lasagnas and chatted away about Emmett, Jasper, the girls, my father, … until my Mom reached her 'Edward needs a girl-talk'.

I've had an issue, according to the rest of my siblings. Girls.

That was never true. I've always had crushes in high school, had to occasional girlfriend too, but nothing really serious.

Now my Mom is a bit worried, since my brother and sister both found their 'life mate' as she likes to call it.

But I just haven't met a special person who I want to spend time with. Not really.

"You have to give everyone a chance Edward. Don't be particular, I'm sure there must be a girl you're interested in?" she asked me.

I thought about it. But could only come up with one girl lately, Ballerina.

"Well, you're right Mom. There is one girl I'm interested in. But I'm not sure whether it'll work out or not," I said sincerely.

Mom's eyebrows almost went up her hairline at my confession.

"Oh really?" She said, impressed.

"Yes, but your lips are sealed until I say so. That's all I'll say about it now," I said and winked.

I could tell she was annoyed by my lack of giving information. But I couldn't care right now, I had other things on my mind

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><p>SOOOOOOO I'm here again! There were people working on the water pipes in my street, and they manages to fuck up my internet :  
>All is well now, so enjoy!<br>Please review :) It makes my day!


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